Trivial Confession
by Annasthacy Chashyme
Summary: or how to propose in the most absurd way because it's too out of topic. And because you are not even going out. / "You should be grateful, Giotto, that there's still someone sane enough to take care of you trivial affairs." "Then, as a show of gratitude..." / GiottoxOC. Oneshot. RnR?


_Annasthacy Chashyme (c) 2012_

_Katekyo Hitman Reborn! (c) Amano Akira_

**_[I don't take any commercial benefit from this fanfiction]_**

_Romance/Humor, T_

_**Warning: **OC (just substitute her name to yours if you'd like), OOC, excessive sweetness?_

**TRIVIAL CONFESSION**_**  
**_

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Today is, in my least opinion, _disastrous._

Alaude was home for once—if we can even call the Vongola mansion his home—and this little change was enough to destroy the whole routine of our typically peaceful day. It's as if his each step brings destruction. Especially when said steps are accompanied by the sinister steps of a certain Mist Guardian.

I wonder if actually they do it—fighting and _barbarically_ destroying stuffs—just to irritate me. Well, Alaude wouldn't, but I'm not so sure about Daemon. He seemed very content when I arrived at the scene and practically lost my mind trying to settle everything down. I'm guessing he was having his sweet time teasing both Alaude, his nemesis, and me, the only female in this family.

I can't hold back the groan. "That Daemon... I shouldn't have gotten so worked up!" I grumble, heaving a sigh.

My words apparently are funny for my afternoon garden-walking company. The blonde chuckles, clearly amused. He knows, of course, about my long-lasting history of bringing order into the Vongola. When I first arrived at the mansion as the head maid, I had to work hard to have everyone's respect and attention. By everyone, it includes the Vongola Primo and his Guardians. Then I had to cope with each of their personalities. Somehow, after several weeks or so, there were less furniture breaking and less screaming. And now, a year from that, I have become more than a maid in the house. Something between a sister and a friend—I am allowed to eat at the same table as them and Giotto even buys me pretty clothes (though until now, I can't fathom why. I already have enough dresses, really).

"Did you know, Giotto, if only Alaude didn't promise to take care of the damaged building, I would consider forbidding him from this mansion. He attracts too much violent action," I say seriously, looking at his bright cerulean orbs. We have stopped walking and preferred enjoying the warm humid air of summer by the fountain. We sit on the concrete edge.

Again, the Vongola Primo chuckles lightly. "Sophia, they are always like that; you don't need to worry over something so _trivial_," he assured me, using a finger to poke my cheek playfully. "Or you'll get wrinkles soon."

I back my head away from his finger, uneasy at the intimity of his action. With a pout I reply, "if I don't worry, then who will? Sometimes, something trivial can kill, you know that." I cross my arms over my chest. "You should be grateful, Giotto, that there's still someone sane enough to take care of you _trivial _affairs."

His smile widens into a grin. It makes my breath hitch slightly—I hope he doesn't notice that. Damn. How can he be so dazzlingly handsome when actually he's just being plain annoying? And those bright, sincere eyes are mesmerizing. Oh, I can feel my cheeks heating up.

"Why of course, I am very grateful. If it weren't for you, Sophia, this family would be completely disfunctional," he said softly to me. "Everytime I look back, I will find your presence here as a blessing. What a miracle that I have found and hired you."

Giotto is always the sweet-talker, I know, but this is the first time he ever says something so... sentimental to me. Usually he's nice and kind, but he never looks at me (or anyone in that matter) with such emotion stirring inside his eyes. I find myself drowning in them. I should be ashamed, I shouldn't feel this way toward him—but...

"Then, Sophia..." he starts slowly as he gives me a calculating look, "as a show of gratitude..." He pulls my hands gently, bringing them to his lips, and then kisses their backs.

I gasp. My mind stutters something even I can't understand, and my cheeks are on fire. Oh Lord, what is—what is this...?! I don't think my head is working right.

And then (cruelly if I may add), Giotto says something capable of blowing my mind. "Sophia, _mia cara_, will you marry me?"

At this point, my jaw falls into an undignified gape. What... Did he... Did he just propose? To me? No, I must be dreaming. I must be hallucinating. I so want to slap my face if only my hands weren't in his grasp. Well, I am too stunned to move, anyway.

Okay, let's arrange my mind first. He proposed to me. Does it mean he... cough, _love_ me? Wait, we aren't even dating, and he just _oh-so-casually_ proposed to me! What kind of proposal is this? I can't believe this.

"Sophia?" his voice disturbs my train of thoughts, "_cara_, do you hear me?" And I can practically hear the stifled laughter behind his seemingly concerned question. Oh great. Looks like I'm overthinking things again. I quickly pulled my hands away from his.

"Stop it, Giotto. Your joke's getting way too much," I mutter as I hold my hands close to my chest. Yes, this must be a joke and he is enjoying it. I'm too ashamed to admit that I'm reveling in the little warmth still lingering on my skin where he kissed it. I'm too proud to admit the slowly sinking feeling of my heart.

Oh my God, but Giotto would never _ever_ make some worthless joke like this!

My heart beats faster when the blonde man looks at me carefully, any hint of humour have left him. Goodness, let me think that the burning emotion in his eyes are only my imagination!

"_Mia cara_," he started. Doesn't he know that way he calls me makes my ears steam? "Why would I joke about something like this? I'm very serious." As if to prove his intentions, he fishes a small box out from his breast pocket. I shudder. It is a ring box!

"Sophia, will you marry me?" he asks once again, this time offering me a very pretty silver ring. It has a small bead of sapphire, much like his eyes, and—gasp, is that the Vongola emblem around the blue jewel? This is so serious.

...and he's offering it to _me_?

"Giotto," I choke out, suddenly lacking air to breathe properly. "Why... me?"

"Why not?" he counters, smiling softly when he sees me staggering back. "I have known you for almost a year... and I am one hundred certain that only you are fitted to the role of La Regina Della Vongola." He winked playfully, "you're the only one who bothers about trivial matters, after all."

Damn Giotto. How am I supposed to answer that? If my heart _was_ beating fast, I think right now it's stopped altogether.

"Then...," I manage to quietly whisper, not daring to look at him in the eye, "do you love me?"

He answers almost instantly, " I do. _Ti amo_, Sophia, _il mio amore_."

Since I don't respond to his so downright confession, Giotto decides to make the first move again. He takes my left hand and slipped the silver band around my ring finger. Next, he kisses the ring, ever so tenderly.

I blush hard at his bold actions. What kind of man gives the woman the ring before she says 'yes'? Not that I was going to refuse his proposal, though. I always keep quiet about this, but actually I have a big crush to him. Maybe even love. And maybe he sees it in me all along—I can't say I hide my feelings well.

I bite my lip slightly as Giotto starts moving his lips, kissing my fingers and palm and then wrist. My stomach flips up and down, giving me a sudden nausea. And I'm getting goosebumps. Damn Giotto. I should have known he is capable of being so romantically bold, judging by his straightforward and caring nature.

"Umh, Giotto...?" My voice is trembling. It sounds very much like a squeak, and I hate it. Giotto looks up but still holding my hands. "Don't I have a say in this?" I ask in a much firmer voice and lift an eyebrow. A low smirk adorns my lips.

Perhaps the Vongola Primo understands what I mean, therefore he says with a gentle smile, "I would love to hear it."

"I love you too, Giotto." My lips curve higher into a timid smile. "And for your earlier question... Yes, I do."

As soon as I say it, he gives me a soft kiss on my forehead, taking my breath away. God, all this proposal and stuffs he did were enough already to make me faint. Heart attacks, hyperventilation, haematoma, and now what? A deadly combination of all those? Is he trying to kill me or what?

When I see the mischievous grin on his handsome features, I know he is.

Damn Giotto.

**-FIN-**

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**A/N:** alright, blame my overly-romantic mind when I wrote this. And guess, this was written in my test room as I was having a last-term exams. I don't know, I just scribbled any word that appeared in my brain and the words just _piled up_ into this. Well, of course with some editing. Trying usage of present tenses for this one.

By the way, the name Sophia is made out of a whim. It's more or less similar with [Name] lol. And those Italian words... are courtesy of Google Translate =w=


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